


Clean

by megsta95



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: After the Fall, Angst, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Love, Sadness, Trying to move on, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:32:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2588453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megsta95/pseuds/megsta95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly tries to deal with Sherlock being gone after the fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own the lyrics to the song, I am simply using them for this fic. Also I haven't written anything after the fall and this story happened while listening to Taylor Swift's clean. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think :)

'The drought was the very worst'

Molly trudged through the early morning crowd, not bothering to holler at the people who push, bump, or give her dirty looks. She just keeps her dead eyes fixed on her path. The sky is gloomy, threatening to pour rain at any moment. Molly turns a corner, knocking right into a man. 

“Watch it!” He snarled.

Keeping her head down, she mumbles a weak apology, before walking away. Her destination getting closer with each step. It takes her a few minutes before holding her head up, seeing a familiar form. Frozen to the spot, just staring at the figure at the end of the street coming towards her. Her heart starts to pound, her body shaking. It can't be. Somehow finding the courage to walk, she journey's towards this person, her pace quickening with each stride. With the swoosh of the long coat and outline of curls, she's sprinting. Hope lights up in her eyes, as she dashes down the street, he's back. Molly was too wrapped up in her happiness, that she slams right into this man, knocking them both down to the ground. 

She could hear the loud thumping of his heart against her ear, holding her breath as she slowly lifts her head up, while trying to spit out an explanation. “I didn't see...” Her words trailing off as she finally gets a good look at the man beneath her. Her heart drops, her stomach tightening, fighting back tears. For a moment, just a moment she thought he was back. No more sleepless nights, no more out bursts of tears, no more worrying, no more pain. Her hope got the better of her, it was just someone who had similar features, dress, and outline. Molly shook as she tried to stand up, the man quickly got up and held onto her shoulders to steady her.

“Are you alright?” Concern was written all over this stranger's face. 

Molly looked down and yanked herself from his grip. Keeping her head down, she pulled her oversized bag onto her shoulders, only daring to look at the man's coat. “I'm fine.” She said curtly, before walking briskly away. Her words ringing in her ears. She was always fine... she had to be fine.

'When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst'

The hospital was all hustle and bustle today, which Molly was thankful for. It kept her mind too busy and occupied to think of him. It was nearing the end of the day, the light outside had turned dark. Wiping her forehead with the sleeve of her lab coat, she took a look up at the clock. It was way past the end of her shift, she should have left hours ago. Dropping the scalpel onto the tray, she unskillfully took her gloves off, letting them drop into the rubbish bin. She stood there for a minute staring at the body in front of her. “Time to put you to rest.” A hint of smile creeping onto her face, but quickly vanished. “Well, until tomorrow that is.”

When she was all finished cleaning up, she had to store some files in the lab. Molly hated the lab. Where it was once her sanctuary, it was now her nightmare. She rocked back and forth, waiting for the lift to reach the correct floor. Taking a deep breath, upon the ding!, letting her know she had arrived. She gripped the clipboard in her hand tighter as she approached the lab doors. Reluctantly pushing them open with her free hand. 

Walking in, Molly pleaded with herself not to look, it would only hurt her. Praising her strength as she walked by, she opened the filing cabinet and slipped the papers in. Only turning around to leave, but her eye wandered to the spot. His spot. Molly froze, there it was, just like it has been for months now, untouched. The microscope, his microscope, was there, waiting and begging to be looked through. The papers scattered all around the table, from their last experiment together. All of it collecting dust, just like a past memory. At least memories were alive. She meant to clean all of that up the week after he left. She really did.

Molly was perched on a stool and writing up some reports, when she took a look over at Sherlock's old place. She blew out a long breath, her heart clenching at the sight before her. She didn't realise her boss, Mike Stanford walking in. She also didn't realise, he had been there for five minutes, and that she had been in that same position for much longer.

“You alright there Molly?” He asked, his pity visible, as he slowly approached her.

She blinked. “Fine” Molly turned back to her paperwork and acted like nothing happened. She kept sneaking glances at Sherlock's things as she worked. 

Mike must have noticed, because he came back beside her. “I can get someone to clean that up for you, we should have done it that day.” He looked somberly down at his feet.

His words finally hitting her. “No!” She shouted, giving the man a fright. “I mean, I just haven't gotten around to it yet.” 

He just nodded. “Okay.” He spoke softly, before giving her a pat on her shoulder. “Okay.” Mike repeated, before leaving her alone.

Molly was thankful he didn't press the subject further, or that he didn't mention, that it has been four months since Sherlock's fall, giving her plenty of time to clean it up. 

Tearing her eyes away from the scene, she ran out of the lab as fast as she could.

'It was months and months of back and forth'

On her trek back home, she was reminded of his cruel nature. The way he mercilessly deduced people... her. The Christmas party, where he deduced her present. Although he got it wrong, well part of it. She was glad, she stood up for herself, he needed to be taught something. Molly had been surprised when he had shown remorse, knowing he had just embarrassed her in front of all their friends, getting him to apologize. 

The way he would always bicker with her about getting into the lab after hours or the morgue. She almost always giving in, almost. She smiled as she turned the corner, remembering the times she actually let him sulk, because she was not falling for his tricks.

His demands on new body parts, that must be brought to him at once! A lot of the times Molly had actually given into that one, was because she was either too tired, or she just wanted to see him. But more then not, she yelled at him over the phone, about manners and you shouldn't demand people do favors for you. That lead them both into a long argument on the subject for hours, literally hours. 

Finally reaching the door to her building, she reminded herself ,to leave those memories behind, as she let the door slam shut behind her.

'You're still all over me like a wine stained dress I can't wear anymore'

Padding out of the washroom, she headed into her bedroom, needing to find some warm pajamas. Molly opened her closet and riffled through the clothing that hung on the hangers. She rarely went through her closet, but she was cold and needed her winter nightwear. Mindlessly moving the hangers over one by one, she hummed a tune. Until she reached the last hanger in her closet, standing like a statue she stared at the shirt. Her hand had balled the material in her fist, her knuckles white from the pressure. There it was, the shirt she wore, the day he fell. Her eyes flitting to the red stains in the center, collar, and sleeve, mocking her. 

Her heart aches as she runs her trembling fingers over the dark spots, tears filling her eyes. Suddenly she backed away from the closet, staring at the shirt, now swinging back and forth. Molly quickly pushed the other clothes forward, so that shirt would be pushed in the back again. Leaning her back against the closet doors once they were shut, she slid down and buried her face into her crossed arms. 

'Hung my head, as I lost the war, and the sky turn black like a perfect storm'

Once she calmed down, she let her head fall back against the closet doors. Slowly breathing in and out. She got an idea in her head, looking outside her window at the night sky, she bit her lip. She really shouldn’t go out this late at night, it was reaching well past midnight and who knows, who is out there. But she has to go and it has to be now. She bolted from her spot and ran to her dresser. She quickly put on the first bit of clothing she found, putting her coat and shoes on, she tore out of her flat, and down the street.

Molly, had stayed away from his grave, up until now. She had stayed strong and unwilling to go, but seeing that shirt... the blood, she lost the battle. She opened the gate to the cemetery, the gate giving an almighty groan as it opened. Looking around to make sure she was alone, she made her way to his grave. Even though she knows that he is alive, her heart still drops as she sees his name scrawled out on the slab of stone. Molly drops to her knees and cries for the friend she didn't lose to death, but lost to an enemy. Cradling her knees to her chest, she allowed herself to grieve properly for the first time. Her tears and heart ache were for the loss of Sherlock's presence, the possibility of him never returning, of him never coming back to... her. 

All those times she wanted his cruelty to stop, for his hurtful words to stop... well now they had, all she hears is silence. She wanted those things to end, but not like this, never like this. How can she feel like this, like he really is dead, when she knows he's alive. She should be happy, that he is off somewhere trying to break the web, trying to get back here, he's alive... why isn't that enough for her to stop feeling like he isn't. Shaking from the cold, sitting on the cold ground and staring at his tombstone she gets her answer.

She loves him.

'That's when I could finally breathe'

“I love him.” She whispers to herself. Then touching the cold stone with her hand, she says more forcefully “I love you.” Somehow, Molly felt like a weight had been lifted, as she left the cemetery that night.

 

Her phone dings in the morning, she groans as she turns over, letting her hand blindly search for it on her nightstand. She had already called Mike to let him know she wouldn't be coming in today, she hadn't gotten back to her flat until three in the morning and knew she wouldn't be okay to go to work. Although she felt a little better about Sherlock, she still had the worry about his safety looming over her. Finally finding her mobile, she sat up and saw that it was a message from Mycroft. More awake and with urgency, Molly quickly tapped on the message, letting her know that Sherlock is safe. Her shoulders slumped, as she clutched her phone to her chest. Her eyes shut as her head reached the headboard, smiling. For the first time in months, she felt like she could finally breathe. Although there could be complications in the future and his safety isn't guaranteed, the only thing that mattered was that he was safe right now and that was enough.

'And by morning, gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean' 

When Molly woke up later that day, she smiled. It was the first time, since his fall, that she didn't immediately think of him. It also was the first time she was actually happy. Molly bounced out of bed and went to the kitchen and made herself a cup of tea, sipping on it as she cooked a full breakfast (or dinner). She stayed in and watch telly, laughing until it hurt. Things were finally getting better.

'There was nothing left to do and the butterflies turned to dust, they covered my whole room'

Three months later, Molly had a nightmare. It was about that day, Sherlock was up on the roof, standing on the ledge. She looked down and saw nothing there to catch his fall. She was now facing his back, right behind him. He stood there, not saying or doing anything. She tried to shout his name, but couldn't. Sticking her hands out she slowly placed them on his back, without another thought, she pushed him off the ledge, watching him fall and fall and fall, until he hit the ground. She just stood there motionless, just staring at the scene unfold, staring at his lifeless body, that she was responsible for.

'So I punched a hole in the roof, let the flood carry away all my pictures of you'

Screaming, Molly woke up. She was kicking and thrashing, her face drenched in sweat, once she realised it was only a dream, she tried to calm herself down. Letting her heavy breaths, fall into lighter ones. Molly brought her shaking hands up to hold her forehead, resting her elbows on her knees. Her thoughts brought her around to Sherlock and wondering where he was, and if he was safe. She hadn't heard from Mycroft since that day, which felt like years ago, when it had only been months. She couldn't help, but think about all the horrible things that could happen to him. Imagining the worst, her eyes began to fill with tears. Only noticing that she was crying, when she feels the tears slide down her cheeks. Rocking, back and forth, she allows herself to sob. 

'The water filled my lungs, I screamed so loud but no one heard a thing'

Molly quickly, gets angry for acting like this. Sherlock is the one out there all alone, trying to protect his friends and here she is crying about it. She had been strong for months and now it's gone to waste! Weak little Molly Hooper, can't handle a nightmare. Her crying stops, as her anger fills her, she grabs her pillow and starts punching it. Over and over, she brings her blows to the pillow, screaming and yelling her frustrations out.

Molly, finally stops abusing the pillow, when her knuckles become numb. Panting, she sits and stares straight ahead at her closet. The closet, she's too afraid to open, because of that shirt. Narrowing her eyes, she jumps out of bed and tears open the closet, the doors banging against the walls. She moves all the clothing around until she reaches the shirt. Taking a couple of beats to look at it before ripping it off the hanger. Making her way to the dumpster outside and tossing it in there.

'The rain came pouring down when I was drowning  
That's when I could finally breathe  
And that morning, gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean'

The next day she cleans Sherlock's table, putting the microscope away, the papers in the recycling bin. It's old stuff anyway, he won't need it if he... when he comes back. Molly lets out a breath, as she stares at the clean table top. She walked over to the big window, where she had watched Sherlock fall, the only thing falling today was rain. Molly allowed herself the chance to breathe and clear her mind, as she gazed outside, watching the people try to scurry from the pouring rain. She smiled, as she took it all in. Her phone dining in her pocket. It is a message from her friend Meena, apparently she found her a blind date. Molly bit her lip, she should go, live her life. She thought before replying.

Two days later Molly nervously walks into the cafe, where she is to meet her mystery man. A hand goes up and she sees him, he looks oddly familiar. He smiles as she approaches the table. “Hey, didn't you bump into me a while back?” He asked laughing.

“Oh! I think you had.” She joined in with his laughter, as she sat down, ready to enjoy her date.

'Ten months sober, I must admit  
Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it'

Trying to put her heels on, she saw the news head line. They were bringing back the years anniversary of 'Sherlock's suicide'. She stopped what she was doing and leaned back against the counter. Suddenly feeling very guilty for having a life and going out, while Sherlock was god knows where. Thankfully, Mycroft had sent her a message two weeks ago, letting her know Sherlock was still safe and alive. Her buzzer came through, announcing her date's arrival. Molly let out short quick little breaths before, pushing the button to allow him in. Sherlock is fine, go live your life. She thought, as she opened her door.

“Tom!”

'Ten months older I won't give in  
Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it' 

Tom had taken her to the most beautiful restaurant she had ever been. Like always he pulled her chair out for her and tucked it in, before he seated himself. The waiter came and poured Molly's favorite wine. She smiled at him and placed her hand on top of his, giving it a squeeze. He looked rather nervous tonight, which is odd, because he hasn't acted nervous since their first couple of dates.

“Everything okay?” She asked.

“Oh, yes! Very!” He fumbled a bit with his napkin, setting it on his lap. He laughed nervously, as he placed her hand in his. “Molly, I know we have only known each other for six months and been together for five.” His hand started to sweat, but she thought it wouldn't be nice to let that be known.   
“I have never met anyone like you before, you're amazing in every way. Smart and beautiful... I love you.”

Molly blushed, they had already said their I love yous three months ago. “I love you too, Tom.”

Tom, smiled, before continuing. “That's why I wanted to ask now, I know people usually wait a year at least, but I can't imagine my life without you. That's why,” He pulled a small tiny box form his jacket, and swiftly opened it, showing her the beautiful ring that was inside. “Molly Hooper, will you do the honor of becoming my wife?” Tom looked hopefully at her.

She was in shock, clearly not expecting this. It is true, a bit quick to pop that sort of question. Molly would have wanted him to ask later on, rather than now. But what's better then with the present. She stared at the ring, in the box. She couldn't help but think about Sherlock. Her heart aching at the thought. Now, she does love Tom, really she does. But she also still, fiercely loves Sherlock with all her heart. It wouldn't be fair to him, to Tom, if she were to say yes, when she still had thoughts of another man. Molly hadn't realised how long she had been frozen, staring at the ring, until Tom snapped the box shut and put it back in his pocket.

“Too soon? Don't worry, I get it.” He said.

“No! It's just... I don't know...” Molly tried and failed to find an explanation that would make him feel better, but she couldn't think of one.

“Really, it's alright. I thought it was a long shot anyway. Best not to jump the gun on a thing like this.”

She didn't lend a response, just fell back in her chair, praying the night goes by fast. Dinner was very quiet with the exception of those around them, and the scraping of their forks and knives on the plates. Tom, walked her to her flat door, and kissed her on the cheek. He went to leave, but Molly pulled him back. “Give me tonight to think.” She said.

Tom's eyes lit up and he smiled. “Thank you.”

Returning the smile, she stood on her toes so she could give him a long kiss goodnight. Molly watched Tom leave before she went into her flat. She tossed her coat on the arm of her sofa and rubbed her feet as she slid her heels off.

“You're home late.” Molly, jumped as he spoke. Holding a hand to her chest. Sherlock stepped into view and stood in front of her. “Hope you don't mind, I need a place to stay while in London.”

Her mouth was wide open as she looked at him, he was here, alive and well, standing right in front of her! Her heart started to beat faster as he smiled down at her. “Sherlock?”

“Yes?” He rose a brow at her.

“You're here, you're really here!” She shouted, leaping up from the sofa and into his arms. “You're safe!”

Sherlock wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. “I am.”

She moved back a bit, still holding him. Checking him over and over again. When her eyes landed on his blue-green hues, she was done for. She finally caught up and realised, she was holding Sherlock and he was holding her. Molly's breathing started to elevate, not breaking eye contact. She bit her lip as she inched her way back to him. “I've been so worried this past year.” She whispered.

He placed a hand on her cheek and rubbed his thumb against her skin. “I know, I'm sorry for putting you through that.” He said, before leaning in closer, until their lips almost touched.

Molly's eyes closed, she ran her tongue along her bottom lip, feeling his breath on her. A minute later Sherlock pressed his lips against hers, kissing her slowly and softly. Molly groaned, as she kissed him back. Her mind going completely blank, except for the way it felt when he was kissing her. It was unlike anything she had ever felt in her life. Sherlock walked her backwards toward her bedroom, not breaking the kiss. 

Feeling the back of her legs hit her bed, she laid down, Sherlock carefully on top of her. He flicked his tongue across her sealed lips, she allowed him entrance and moaned as their tongues met. It wasn't long before she was tearing at his shirt and he was tearing at hers. Neither of them really thinking. As Sherlock trailed kisses down her neck he panted “I've. Missed. You. So... much.”

“I've missed you too” She said trying to undo his belt, while he was fingering the clasp of her bra. She laughed when he groaned in frustration, and pushed him back a bit so she could reach behind and undo it herself. When it finally sprung free his mobile started to go off. He held up a finger and stood to answer it, pacing back and forth while speaking quietly. Molly, couldn't really hear what he was saying.

He finally hung up and looked at her, an apology written all over his features. “Molly...”

Tears streamed down her face. “You're leaving, aren't you.”

“Molly-”

“Aren't you!” She screamed.

Sherlock gulped and looked down. “Yes.” He stood there, no shirt on, belt unbuckled, looking down at the bloody ground.

“Go then!” 

He looked back up at her, hurt plain in his eyes. 

“Just... go.” Molly quietly said as she ran out of the room and into the loo, sitting on the toilet, only allowing herself to cry when she heard the door shut.

'I think I am finally clean'

Determined to rid her life of Sherlock, or her feelings for him at least, she would never want him out of her life. She called Tom and told him she would accept his proposal. He gushed over the phone, telling her how much he loved her and that he vowed to make her the happiest wife on the planet. 

'Said, I think I am finally clean'

Couple weeks later, Tom moved into her flat with his dog. Molly didn't fancy dogs that much, Toby clearly hated them. But the dog was Tom's and so he stayed. She tried to fight the nagging thoughts in the back of her mind, as she watched him bring up boxes. She smiled at him as he dramatically swiped at his forehead and laughed. As she laughed and enjoyed helping her fiance move in, the thoughts slowly went away.

 

'Rain came pouring down when I was drowning  
That's when I could finally breathe  
And that morning, gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean'

That night Tom ordered pizza for them and they sat up playing monopoly for the remainder of the night.

“Ugh! No fair you cheated!” Molly giggled.

“I don't think so.” Tom said, crawling towards her and ticking her. Molly's laughter filled the room. “Say that I won fair and square!”

“Never!” She shouted, as she squirmed away from his grasp and ran around, trying not to get caught. When she finally did, she gave up as Tom snaked his arms around her from behind, placing them on her waist he gave a chaste kiss to her neck, rocking them back and forth.

“Why don't we play Operation!” He said enthusiastically as he skipped over to the pile of board games.

Molly's heart dropped and she felt sick. How was it that Sherlock kept getting in the way of things. “I-I'm tired, why don't we go to bed?”

“Yeah, sure. Maybe another time?”

“Sure.” She said, as Tom went into her... their room. She quickly grabbed the game and stored it under the sofa, before following him in.

'And that morning, gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean' 

The next morning, Molly awakes to Tom's light snoring. She turns over facing the wall. She brings her left hand up and looks at the ring, sliding it on and off. She really does have feelings for Tom, maybe someday, her love for Sherlock will be gone and she can focus all of her love and affection towards Tom. For now, she can work on loving him as much as she can, until Sherlock doesn't cloud the back of her mind and heart. She's not sad anymore, not like she used to be anyway, Sherlock's alive and that's all that matters. “I think I'm finally clean” Molly whispers to herself, before falling back to sleep.


End file.
